Poor Soul
by lolitaworkrequilem
Summary: Alois died while his uncle's daughter was pregnant. It's now 1972 and Mabel Macken has summoned Claude into the Trancy blood line yet again. They exist together as a result of her seeking revenge of everyone who was involved in her being sentenced to an asylum, and Claude who is now named Alex hungers for her insane soul with an unhealthy greed that smolders into lust.
1. Chapter 1

'_Mabel Macken, descendent of Jim Macken. What have you summoned me for?'_

'_Isn't it obvious? Look at me. I've been living amongst the insane. I'm in hell.'_

'_What is your wish, then?'_

'_I merely wish death upon anyone involved in me being here.'_

'…_Very well.'_

I can remember it. The absolute darkness, the cacky web keeping me in paralysis to the spider's mercy.

As a student, I had read books of demonology … The idea fascinated me. My brother believed me to of had an obsession. He was quite right. Though I'd never of comprehended the thought for a minute that when I was to return home after a short break in Felixstowe with my colleague, awaiting me would be the doctor of London's finest and most successful asylum.

They took my books away, burned my clothes and fed me nothing but blessed bread to purify my body. I was phlebotomised, sterilised, electroshocked and submerged. They cut my hair to a shaggy but short length on the fifth day so I couldn't bite it or rip it out easily. I looked like a boy. But I knew what to do.

I avoided any involvement of this method for two months of being an inmate. It was a terrorising thought that such a thing was to happen to me; being captured by a contract between a demon and myself. But I wanted out of this scummy place that kept me weak and drove me to hell. The cell was crowded and overrun by vermin and animalistic humans. I was going to die in that place. _Wouldn't it be better to die in the comfort of my home at the hands of someone I trust?_

I had heard that every blood line has their demon. I had also gotten hold of my ancestory tree at the death of my cousin. Jim Macken, an ancestor going back three generations was told to of had a butler of many inhuman talents. His butler fitted the criteria of a demon perfectly. Thus my suspicions arose.

'_You're Claude, aren't you.'_

'_I was once given that name, yes.'_

'_You've been summoned by a Macken before.'_

'_Yes. You're of Jim's kin.'_

There was a new doctor on our ward after that night. He took the form of a younger man with pristine skin and a golden glow to his eyes. It was sickening, really. The way such a vile creature had the balls to appear so solemn and beautiful. Though his expression was every bit as deadly as what his actual intentions were. He wouldn't smile or react to anything a patient was to do. He wouldn't even shout in annoyance or groan in pain with the crazies kicks and slaps… The ward gained a doctor that night. And I gained my mark.

'_What is that…?' Annie touched my wet back. '_

_How long have you had that? I didn't know you had a tattoo…' She begins rubbing a patch of skin on my shoulder blade with her thumb furiously. It was getting sore, so I flinch away from her and grabbed my flesh to pull it towards my face as I bent my neck to see this tattoo. Sure enough there was a mustardy yellow stain to my skin that was shaped in a pendulum. _

"Are you ready to leave now, Mistress?" Questions the soft monotone voice of my doctor after he had closed the door to the treatment room. I nod once and he continues to stare at me. I sigh and look up at him. Jumpping down from the medical table to stand before him, I spoke. "Alex. Get me out of this place this instant." The stoic man watches me closely for some reason before crouching on to one knee to place a palm on his chest. "Yes, mistress."

My first order was uncomfortable. I never got my way as a child, and I was always coddled and told what to do. I hadn't a problem with that. It made me feel secure. But now I guess I felt alone in the sense that I was in charge. And he called me mistress. This was probably what made me the most uncomfortable. I'm not a pervert, but as an adolescent, my friends and I would make fun of pornography and trick each other by linking them to dirty websites. So the phrase "Yes, mistress," was very heavily connected to smut. It was kinky, and I wasn't in favour of that kind of business.

He must have been jumping and running and dodging bullets for a mere five minutes, carrying me out of the asylum. Even with his hands full, he moved as though he was carrying just an empty box. The human doctors wouldn't give up, so there were a lot of dead bodies.

A demon was under my control in exchange for my soul. I had just witnessed how powerful a demon actually is. And he would abide by our contract and preserve my life until my goal was complete. But I still didn't feel safe. I suppose I was right not to. This man is going to be the death of me, no matter what the given circumstances. I have every right to be fearful of him. And I was going to kill myself anyway. I entered the asylum sane and slowly lost my mind each day. I am dangerous to society. I think he knows this. I read that the insane souls are always the tastiest.

I'm scared. Of everyone. I don't want to die anymore. Now I see a future, now I'm outside the gates, now I can get revenge. Yet I'm so scared. What have I done? I've signed away my soul. I'm so stupid. I'm insane. _Yes, you are. _

Interrupting my thoughts? I snap out of my trance and frown at my demon who was still running along the rooftops with me clinging for dear life around his neck. "Get out of my mind!"

He seemed to act offended as he met my vision and bowed his head at me slightly. "Yes, mistress…"

I regret with every inch of me yelling like that. The way he looked at me. It maked my skin crawl.

Lost as of what to actually do – not that I could do much with him running with me—I tightened my grip at his neck and closed my eyes. If I couldn't see my fate, maybe I could calm myself.

It was like a hug. I was hugging death. I laugh once in my own thought. I might as well let hell consume me. If I keep over thinking things, I'll get a headache.

Drawing my head away from his collar bone, I grin up at him. He doesn't seem to care about my twisted humour. And my skin is still crawling with his glare that seems to be permanent. "I'm hugging death!" I chimed like I would have done with delight to see that the ice cream wasn't all gone. He simply sighed and placed his forehead against mine softly.

"You really are quite quaint, Mabel Macken"


	2. Poor Soul Chapter 2: Lesson One

My house is so cold. And It'll get worse now, thanks to Alex having to bust the door down because they took my keys, too. So much to do…

A soft mewl of annoyance came from my throat as I pressed my palms into the sockets of my eyes. Night had turned to day and my home had turned to a dusty wreck. There was hardly anything left. They took all my belongings. There's just rooms now. _So much to do._

Alex stood expressionless, watching me. I sniffle quietly and straighten out. I'll probably die in a few years. I should abuse this opportunity to have power over him. "Alex. This is an order. Take me into town." Alex continued to stare at me for a while before he answered.

"It is four in the morning. Nothing will be open until six hours. If you'd allow me to suggest so, sleep for a while."

I stare back at the omnious man with heavy eyes. He's right. I wasn't thinking. I would have to wait until I could begin reconstructing the interior of my home.

Apart of me wanted to see a more human side of Alex. The other side of me was terrified. I really wanted that side to go away. My fate now was inevitable. I don't want to live in regret for my last remaining years.

Approaching him, I felt my nasal burn and instinctively my hand flew up to pinch my ethnoid. I placed my forehead on his chest and whined random crap to him. "They've ruined me… They took all I have… All I have is this fucking contract… all I have is a brother that wants me dead and parents who don't care… I don't even have food… I'm as good as dead."

"Maybe I should begin eating you now, then."

Stiffened. I felt the chuckle in his chest. I look up at him apprehensively.

So Alex laughs; and smirks too. Because my torment amuses him? Because he thinks its funny I'm legally non-existent?

"Precisely."

"Did I not tell you to get out of my mind?!" I'm screaming at this point, clutching the roots of my hair and ripping them up of their pores slightly. My fingers trap some blood, but I don't react. This is a usual habit. The shorter length of my hair now just makes it a little annoying as there isn't much to grab.

He chuckles again and I shove away from him. He's a filthy demon. He doesn't care about me at all. He's just hungry.

A nailed hands protrude from behind me in the corners of my vision. Trying to contain my anger, my shoulders shudder beneath his arms. Then like a snake and its prey, his arms snap around me and ensnare me to his body. It's strange. He could be killing me, yet I don't exactly feel fear. My arms drop from my face and I let myself limpen in his grip. I watch him lazily from the crook of his arm and he stares right back, smirking; the same, cruel smirk from earlier. A trapped breath resonates in my throat and comes out as a singular grudge. His other arm begins to move and his hand wanders to my abdomen. His fingers claw softly at my medical smock. If my body was a diagram of a charka indicator, that would be where my solar plexus would be. My _soul. _

"You're rather cute when you're upset," he chuckled. "And vulnerable. Not that you wasn't anyway, what with you being not all there… your mind is weak. I can taste your soul in the air…" I shudder and swallow. I feel like a rabbit that's just had its neck ringed, laying against him, motionless. Even if I try, I can only move my eye balls and twitch my fingers. I can't even really speak.

_What are you doing to me?_

_I'm teaching you a lesson. _

_A lesson?_

_ 're going to play house for quite a while, mistress, but make no mistake. I shall abide to our contract and serve and protect you to the very last inch of my being-_

_But the reality of it is that _I _am the slave of _you _and will always be your prey._

I finished his thoughs with a vemonous tone. I didn't like being in this paralysis. Like I was on his web. All he really done was stare at me with that terrorising grin.

_Let me go…_

From his sterdy arm to the floor, I scatter across the ground. Small pants come from my mouth and I have lost strength in my limbs to hoist myself up right. It was a struggle but I managed it. I feel as though I have lost a lot of blood, and my shoulder blade itched furiously like a spiders bite or something. I sit silently for a while itching my mark, sniffing and rubbing my eye in my shoulder. I can hear his footsteps approaching me from behind and I pick myself up as quickly as I can. I let him come closer before I slap him sharp across the face. "Why did you do that to me, you bastard?"

"I told you." He was stoic as ever. "I was teaching you a lesson. Stay afraid of me. Wish not for me to show you any affection or kindness. Expect me to do anything for you. And expect me to let anything harm you." His hand took my chin firmly, but didn't pull me. "However. Expect it is for my own sake. I shall make one hell of a feast out of you… Don't let the thought entertain you that I want anything else."

I understand now. He's trying to tell me that he can take my soul whenever he wants. It's only out of favour to let me grow more mad so I acquire a better flavour that he uses this 'contract'. Like wine… That's all I am. Just food.

"I must say," I tug my chin out of his grip. "You have terrible dinner manners. Playing with your food like this… You could atleast make me look pretty before you dig in." He smirks again.

"You need some sleep, don't you, mistress?" He recollected the past discussion.

I nod and he leads me to my once upon a time room, shredding his coat of the attire he wore to be a doctor and folded it few times to create a make shift pillow for me. I lay on the floor and place my head on his coat, listening to his rummaging, thinking nothing of it. I was startled when I felt a hand wrap around my ankle though. _What now? _

When I look at him, he's holding a pair of small scissors. He's staring at my crotch, and somehow I've seen a scene like this before in the hospital. I sit, and push myself away into the corner of the room. He follows me and I kick him away. "What the hell?!"

He sighs and places a hand on my knee. "Just a moment, please." The hand which bearded the small scissors were at my loins, and I could feel his finger push against my labia to expose my volva. The scissors found their way to my uterus and snipped the thread that kept it sewen together. Before I could even kick him in the bollocks, it was done, and he was washing his hands in an antiseptic.

"Terribly sorry for the indecensy," He sung. "It looked as though it was causing discomfort."

His roughness left me with a watering eye, cooped up in the corner. I wipe my eye and watch him with uncertainty. He comes back to me, and kneels beside me. I find my place back on the ground with my head on his coat again, and supress the urge to question what had just happened. She was thankful that she could be free of the discomfort now. It felt good that her body was correctly shaped after a few months and that menstruation wouldn't be as difficult now. But it wasn't appropriate, naturally. So I stay silent and close my eyes. Slumber came to me quickly. And for six hours, I was free of fear, and my constant headache seemed to shut down. I was scared. But so safe. "Thanks…" was all I recollected saying before I left reality in my dreams.


End file.
